The Curtain

“Reaching For The Wall With Trembling Hands,
Trying To Pull The Curtain To My Side”

I have dealt with depression all of my life,

A component of OCD that seems to accompany

This illness. I have been resistant to antidepressants,

Experiencing many medications with adverse effects.

One particular one was so severe I could not get out

Of bed. Here is one experience I had when unable

To focus, grasping for one positive thing in all of

The room –

Is it a dream, it seems like

A dream? Waking with a start

I know it is not.

Opening my eyes, I am ashamed,

No one would I claim to share

This illness with, how it came

About, I could not explain.

Searching for an answer to a

Troubled mind, no peace do I

Find.

A place where no one would

Venture, no one could help, if

So they would be like friends

Of Job.

Reaching for my robe, with throbbing

Pain and rapid pulse, trying to stand,

A brittle soul about to break,

Falling back as slumber I once more

Take.

There is a stirring as I awake, I say a

Prayer, “my soul to take.”

Crispness of sheets brush against

My skin, a fever begins and my body

Seems to melt, sheets now wet with

The trickle of sweat.

Beginning to thirst and bereft of water,

I become hotter, beginning to falter.

The hopeful anecdote to my illness

Has provoked it instead. Another

Potion has created more mental

Commotion.

The walls seem empty as I stare in

Space, searching for anything to

Break the dreariness of this place.

On the left hangs a picture dismal

And grey, to the right a window,

Dressed in lavender and lace,

Hanging from a silver rod. Could

This be a gift from God?

I must see it better, slowly lifting

My head, moving my legs to the

Floor, reaching for the wall with

Trembling hands,

I pull the curtain to my side, as I cry,

“This piece of cloth I wish to hang

Above my bed.”

As I try, my arms are not high enough,

My hammer and nails strong enough,

My measure true enough.

I sit in the midst of failure and quit.

In my brokenness, something greater

Than I draws the curtain aside, and with

His rod accurate and right, drapes His

Banner of love over me in peace and

Light!

Song Of Solomon 2:4

Read more at: www.donnaspoetry.com

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